This battle was an arduous one for Ming Qi. Whether it was an opponent a level higher than him or the numerous Innate Realm Heavenly Sin Warriors, the back-and-forth often left Ming Qi with wounds of varying sizes.
This was especially true of the mid-stage Martial King leader. According to Ming Qi's memory, he was a member of the Lihuo Clan, a demonic tribe. His defining characteristic was his mastery of fire. Furthermore, his massive stature, four or five meters tall, and his crimson complexion could create immense pressure.
The Lihuo Clan warrior's weapon was a six-meter-long flaming sword, its blade blazing with ever-burning flames. When Ming Qi appeared, he leaped forth without hesitation, brandishing the flaming sword and slashing through the air.
On such a battlefield, Ming Qi held nothing back. Casting aside everything irrelevant to combat, he relied solely on his instincts and willpower to fight a desperate battle against an enemy force dozens, even hundreds, of his own strength.
In the end, the Lihuo Clan's Martial King warrior was completely incinerated by the divine fire, reduced to a pile of ash. However, the remaining Heavenly Sin warriors showed no sign of retreat, charging towards Ming Qi regardless of their own safety.
The battle raged for a long time, from noon until nightfall. When he stabbed the last Heavenly Sin warrior to death with a single strike, Ming Qi felt completely numb, even the hand gripping the Fire Emperor Sword lost all feeling.
After resting on the ground for half an hour, he collected the massive flaming sword as a trophy and continued on his way.
His clothes were no longer the color of his normal robes, but a perverse purple-black stained by blood, then dried. The pungent scent of blood could be smelled from afar.
The sky was devoid of moonlight, and the earth was as gloomy as ink. It seemed as if nothing else could be seen except the endless haze.
Ming Qi walked slowly. As he gradually regained consciousness, he realized the severity of his injuries. Perhaps it was a stroke of luck, but he wondered if he would be so lucky in the next battle.
Lucky enough to survive the battle.
Countless thoughts flashed through his mind, but the thought of turning back remained the only thought.
Though he still didn't understand why he had left Qiankun Mountain and set foot on the war-torn land, the thought of turning back had vanished from his mind.
At dawn, rain fell without warning.
The rain washed over his bloodstained robe, finally washing it clean.
But before the last stain had been completely washed away, Ming Qi faced his second battle.
He reached the outskirts of a small town. Gazing upon the devastated city, he charged forward without hesitation, sword drawn, a blinding flash of blood beneath his feet.
The town's gates had been completely destroyed, and the Dawn of Freedom banner was already flying overhead. Yet, within the city, many powerful humans remained fighting desperately. Facing a vastly superior enemy, none retreated.
As Ming Qi, sword drawn backward, charged into the town with unprecedented force, his first sight was a pile of corpses piled high in the open field ahead. Atop this pile of corpses lay a terrifying stalemate between a powerful human and a powerful demon.
Both sides had lost their lives, clearly engaged in a mutually assured struggle.
Looking behind him, Ming Qi suddenly spotted a still-quiet area in the distance. Within it stood a number of people, including the elderly and children. While some of them were cultivators, most were weak and could not possibly survive such a battlefield.
But now, they all stared silently ahead, gazing at the few figures still fighting desperately.
The city was ablaze, its blazing light illuminating a vast area. Everywhere Ming Qi looked, he saw corpses. The pungent smell of blood seemed to transform into streams of tangible air, reverberating throughout the small town.
He stopped looking, raising the Fire Emperor Sword high in his hand and charging forward.
This battle had inflicted even more wounds on Ming Qi's already injured body, some so deep they revealed the bone.
Although the Great Destruction Suit was indestructible, the immense force of the impact was unavoidable, even through the robes. Any area not protected by the suit was a bloody mess.
Enemy after enemy fell, along with powerful human warriors. Suddenly, Ming Qi noticed that the elderly and children who had stayed behind were silently picking up their weapons and advancing.
They didn't chant slogans, or even raise their spirits. They simply silently swung their swords and blades, charging forward without hesitation, even if it meant holding off the enemy for a second before they died.
Gradually, the number of people in the city dwindled, and so did the number of enemies.
When Ming Qi numbly swung his sword countless times, piercing a Sky Sin warrior's body and sending blood spurting out, the surroundings would suddenly quiet down, the heart-wrenching cries of killing completely fading.
The battle was over.
There was no longer a single surviving Sky Sin warrior in the small town, and only five or six other powerful humans, besides Ming Qi, remained who had fought to the end.
"You are a powerful warrior worthy of respect!"
A scarred human warrior approached Ming Qi and said in a hoarse voice.
Ming Qi said nothing, merely surveying the small town carefully once more before turning and leaving.
This was a city thoroughly washed by blood. If it could survive this catastrophe in the next ten or even several dozen years, it would surely produce many powerful warriors.
Ming Qi's lonely figure gradually receded, finally disappearing from sight within the small town.
The rising sun seemed to carry a heavy tinge of blood, coating the sky and earth in a strange crimson.
Ming Qi continued to wander aimlessly across the Central Land. Whenever he encountered a battle, he would join in without hesitation. Even against the most formidable foe, he never retreated. His wounds grew worse, until, even with his near-immortal form, he struggled to recover.
But this did not hinder his fighting. Though he lacked a clear purpose for his journey, he gradually found something inexpressible—a direction, perhaps.
This was an endless battle, or perhaps a bloody road with no end in sight.
The words of the North God lingered in his ears. This was a group of lunatics, a combination of thugs and bandits. They knew nothing of reason...